


Twister

by Torra_Katze



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Tornadoes, Weather, and Prowl, and apparently so are the Autobots, life will never be the same, mother nature scares the shit out of Sideswipe, the Autobots don't know how to deal, tornadoes are Gods way of telling us we're still his bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torra_Katze/pseuds/Torra_Katze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few weeks after waking from stasis on this tiny organic planet known as Earth, the Autobots still knew almost next to nothing about it, or its native inhabitants. Unfortunately, this includes the weather...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twister

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with another oneshot. This one is based mostly off a pic I found on Tumblr that I don't own and can't find a link to. If you'd like to see the picture, just drop me a line with your email or whatever preferred method of internet communication and I'll pass it along. This is also loosely based off a scene in the 1996 movie "Twister", which is one of my all time faves. If you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend that you do.
> 
> I don't own the characters, that privilege belongs to Hasbro, those bastards.
> 
> EDIT: The art belongs to Sargentcookie on tumblr! Go check out their blog, it's awesome! Thanks goes to my lovely reviewer Kaekokat14 for helping me out~!

A few weeks after waking from stasis on this tiny organic planet known as Earth, the Autobots still knew almost next to nothing about it, or its native inhabitants. The planet was teeming with life, of that they were certain, but having crashed in a (mostly) dormant volcano that was smack in the middle of a desert on the Oregon-California border didn’t lead to one making many discoveries about their surroundings, besides the obvious: it was dry, and it was _hot_.

Sunstreaker was still steaming mad about the UV damage the sun caused to the paint on his shoulders, upper arms, and the bridge of his nose, but until Wheeljack managed to find a sturdier alternative, the Frontliner was going to have to deal with bubbling paint every time he went outside for longer than two or three hours. Cybertron’s loosely-named sun—a faraway star that only gave passive light and little applicable energy—hadn’t the power or size to produce the ultra-violet rays that Earth’s closest star did, so protective painting hadn’t been a necessity.

And, unfortunately, the Autobots had run into an even more finicky and dangerous enemy than blistering paint.

The Weather

The specific Autobots in question: Prowl, Second in Command, tactician extraordinaire, and Sideswipe, infamous Frontliner, bizarrely-proud creator of the deadly pass-time known as Jet-Judo, and self-proclaimed Master Prankster.

The two of them, on Optimus Prime’s orders, had gone to Wisconsin, of all places, to check on reported Decepticon activities. Why just the two of them; why specifically the two of them, even Prowl couldn’t fathom, but orders were orders. So they’d packed enough Energon to make the trip to and from, transformed, and rolled out. Sunstreaker was doubtlessly fragged off that he couldn’t go too, but Optimus’ reasoned that, because of the Twin bond he and Sideswipe shared, it would be best he stay, just in case there actually were Decepticreeps and they had comm-jamming devices, which was always a possibility. 

Now though, Prowl wished he could have found a way to defy orders.

“Prowl…”

The Datsun transformed quickly, freezing in place behind one very frightened Frontliner, accessing the internet for whatever the slag this _thing_ was with blinding speed—

“What is that-?”

—because, dead-straight ahead, was the single most frightening thing the Enforcer had ever seen: a swirling vortex of howling winds and flying debris that buffeted their armor and threatened to sweep them straight off their pedes—

“Sideswipe, don’t panic. Transform and drive as fast as you can.” Prowl tried to sound calm, but the screaming winds called for a raised voice, and the Lambo was becoming even more anxious by the second.

“Drive to _where_ , Prowl?!”

—a Tornado… and it was headed right for them.

“ _I don’t know, just drive_!” the Praxian shouted, waiting only long enough for Sideswipe to jump into his transformation and fishtail away, before chasing after him. His processor whirled through internet webpages and data sites, trying to collect information while dodging debris being thrown around him at the same time.

He spied the ditch running along the road, and a short, sturdy bridge just a quarter mile away that passed over it with a large tractor sitting atop its weathered planks. Making an executive decision, he called, “Sideswipe! Go to the bridge!” and swerved into the ditch, barely hearing the Lambo do the same behind him. They booked it to the wooden structure, diving underneath it and transforming. Prowl frantically wrapped a grapple-hook around one of the deeply buried posts, burying another as far into the soft ground as he could get it, pulling a quaking Sideswipe to his side and partially under his greater mass against the timber support post with a hollered “ _Hold on_!”. 

He curled over the panic-stricken Frontliner, tightening his armor flat against his frame and tucking his wings as far along his back as they would go. Prowl and Sideswipe hunkered down into the mud as the force of nature roared over them, pulling up planks of wood off the top of the bridge and buffeting their bodies without remorse. The SiC was pretty sure one of them yelled through the entire thing, and in a moment of clarity, he thought of Sunstreaker, who was probably going into utter hysterics back at base.

Prowl felt the excruciating pain of a piece of armor being pulled up despite his best efforts and yanked into the gale. His wings were being pushed and pulled, and his sensor-suite was flashing warnings in his HUD. Sideswipe practically _tunneled_ underneath the Praxian, clutching unrelentingly at Prowl’s arm and the post, optics powered down and cycled tightly closed.

After what seemed like forever being pummeled by the g-force winds of the tornado, it passed, leaving the two mechs shaking in the tensly silent aftermath. Sideswipe was nearly keening in terror, hiccupping _‘I wanna go home, I wanna go home’_ tremulously. Whether he meant the _Ark_ or Cybertron, Prowl didn’t know. Probably both.

Prowl managed to coax the Frontliner out from under the bridge and onto the road, where he sat with his head between his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his shins, trembling. Sideswipe was one of the bravest warriors Prowl knew, but the experience they’d just gone through was not something they’d ever had to face before. They were way out of their league with storms of that magnitude, so Prowl wasn’t surprised that it managed to cause such a reaction in Sideswipe. Pit, if his logic centers weren’t in so much control right now, he’d probably be right there beside the red Lambo.

It didn’t occur to the SiC how long they’d sat there, on the dirty, torn up road, trying to get over the traumatic event enough to calm down, until he started hearing the faint whine of turbines attributed to a large flier: Skyfire. It wasn’t a long flight from Oregon to Wisconsin, especially not for a shuttle, but Prowl was still a little surprised by the alacrity of the Autobot force’s arrival. Then he remembered Sunstreaker and winced. Poor mech must’ve had to sit through his twin’s terror the entire time. Not being able to do anything probably put him in a panic.  
Sideswipe tensed at the loud noise of Skyfire’s engines and the wind his turbines kicked up, curling further into his little ball of abject misery with a whimper of pure, unadulterated fear.

The first one off was, predictably, Sunstreaker, who threw himself at his twin. Sideswipe looked up just in time to be tackled by his brother. He cried out and glommed onto the yellow warrior’s frame, shuddering anew.

Prowl stood shakily to greet Prime and the others, only to be pushed back onto his aft by both CMO Ratchet and TiC Jazz. The white ambulance studied the missing plate of armor, determined it wasn’t serious, and stepped over to Sideswipe, who was holding his brother and keening in shock. Sunstreaker looked out of his element, but kept his arms wrapped around his red twin comfortingly.

Then, Prowl registered his own unsteadiness as his pumps started slowing down, the equivalent of a human coming down off an adrenaline high. He wobbled for a second, and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, stabilizing him.  
Jazz peered down at him, observing Prowl through his visor worriedly, “Ah got ya, mech, Ah got ya.” Optimus and Ironhide, who no doubt came in case one of them was injured enough to need to be physically hefted into Skyfire’s carrying hold, stood guard over them through their vulnerable moment.

Prowl never felt more reassured and safe in his existence, but he just wanted to go back to the Ark and forget this ever happened. Only once everyone was aboard the giant shuttle-former and headed home did Prowl finally allow himself to crash into recharge, exhausted by the first major test Earth had thrown at them.

Subconsciously, he vowed to _never_ leave base without checking the weather first.


End file.
